


Identity

by Ischa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Gender Identity, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius is wearing Narcissa's clothes, but Albus is the one who needs to find out what kind of person he wants to be.</p><p>  <i>Scorpius throws his head back when he laughs, when he's amused. He is now. “Oh, Potter, you're in so much trouble,” he says, he reaches out and cups Albus' jaw gently, before he squeezes until it nearly hurts, but that's okay too. Scorpius is made up of more edges and sharp things than Albus will ever be able to count.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Identity

**Pairing:** Albus/Scorpius  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** Scorpius is wearing Narcissa's clothes, but Albus is the one who needs to find out what kind of person he wants to be.  
_Scorpius throws his head back when he laughs, when he's amused. He is now. “Oh, Potter, you're in so much trouble,” he says, he reaches out and cups Albus' jaw gently, before he squeezes until it nearly hurts, but that's okay too. Scorpius is made up of more edges and sharp things than Albus will ever be able to count._  
**Warning(s):** cross-dressing, sex, non graphic violence  
**Author’s Notes:** Written for the_ass_fest.  
**Word Count:** 3.601  
**Beta:** bryoneybrynn  
**Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\---  
~1~

_Pearls and beauty_

He digs his fingers into Scorpius' flesh and lets Scorpius fuck him hard and careless.  
Scorpius' face hovering over Albus', his short hair a mess. Darker from his sweat at the nape of his neck – not that Albus can see the back of his neck now, but he knows. Scorpius' hair always curls there. Albus wants to _bite_ his throat. His fingers tighten on Scorpius' hips, the silk of the short nightgown Scorpius is wearing slipping and shifting with every move. Brushing Albus' hips, his stomach, his dick in a light careless caress. Scorpius' thrust becoming erratic, faster, sloppy. He's close and Albus doesn't want anything more than to see him come. To watch his face.  
His fingers reach out on their own, he doesn't think about it, and grab the necklace, tangle in it. He's close too, the silk is torture, he needs to be touched. He makes a noise and yanks at the necklace, Scorpius' eyes snap to his. There is a moment of stillness and then Scorpius throws his head back and closes his eyes as he comes. The pearls make soft sounds as they spill through his fingers, bounce of the mattress and roll over the hardwood floor.

~+~  
“These were Narcissa's,” Scorpius says. His nightgown rugged up, his legs long and smooth, toes playing with the loose pearls that stayed on the mattress. They're only a shade paler than Scorpius' skin.

Scorpius never says grandmother, he always calls her by her name.

“I'm sure we'll find them all,” Albus answers, he couldn't care less about the pearls now. He knows that Scorpius will make him get them all later, but he really doesn't care at the moment. Now with Scorpius here in his bed, semi-naked and loose limbed. Deliciously fucked out.

“I hope so,” he answers and turns to look at Albus. His beauty always steals Albus' breath away. It's a weird kind of beauty, a shifting kind. Scorpius is not someone people would call beautiful at first glance, maybe. Stunning, stunning is a word everyone would use, haunting possibly, too. Scorpius' lips curl up in a way that usually means trouble for whoever wants to mess with him, but doesn't mean trouble for Albus. “What?” he asks. His voice always sounds a bit cruel and arrogant.

“You're beautiful,” Albus answers.

Scorpius throws his head back when he laughs, when he's amused. He is now. “Oh, Potter, you're in so much trouble,” he says, he reaches out and cups Albus' jaw gently, before he squeezes until it nearly hurts, but that's okay too. Scorpius is made up of more edges and sharp things than Albus will ever be able to count.

He grabs Scorpius by his neck and yanks, kisses him hard and messy until they're both breathless. “Guess I am.”

“Reckless,” Scorpius answers.

“That's me. Got it from Dad,” he says.

“Have to go,” Scorpius says suddenly, rolling away and sitting up in one smooth move.

“Or you could stay,” Albus answers.

Scorpius looks over his shoulder at him, a sharp, complicated look in his dark blue eyes. “The necklace has 97 pearls, Potter,” he says, reaching for his clothes. Albus closes his eyes.

“You can get them next week,” he replies.

~+~

Albus really wishes he knew how he ended up here. On his knees, looking for pearls. Which are obviously a Malfoy heirloom of some kind and probably cursed. Okay, he knows how he ended up here now, because he ripped the necklace while Scorpius fucked him wearing it, but that is only the obvious explanation for this one special occasion. The more pressing question is why the hell he's sleeping with Scorpius in the first place? It can't be his charming personality. He reaches under the dresser and fishes out another pearl, the stupid summoning charm didn't get them all. There are still three missing. He sighs and leans against the bed, rolling the pearl between his fingers.

The first time he saw the pearls was last year, late at night. The necklace spilled over Scorpius' back and one pale perfect shoulder. His hair was long back then, brushing his elbows like a girl's when he past Albus in the halls. He was only wearing pants and the pearls, his hair made up in a messy bun. At first glance Albus thought it was a girl, he only saw the person from behind, but then Scorpius shifted and the pieces clicked together, but wrong somehow.

“You're staring,” Scorpius said and Albus wanted to answer with _but you're beautiful_ , he didn't.

“Guess I am,” he replied and Scorpius' lips curled into that smile, that one with the big red DANGER letters, but he didn't say a word.

That was probably the moment Albus got into trouble, there were others, of course but that one is so very vivid in his mind right now. That carelessly displayed feminine side of Scorpius for anyone to see who happened to walk by late at night.

After a year Albus still isn't sure it's a blessing or a curse he saw it. On days like this, well, a rough half an hour ago he would say a blessing, but now, he would totally say curse.

~+~

There are days, hours, minutes, seconds he wants to blur it all out and just tell someone. Tell Dad, but he bites on his lip instead and clenches his hands to fists behind his back, or in his pockets so Dad doesn't know and keeps the secret what it is, a secret.

Besides who can say what Dad would think? His son is sleeping with Draco Malfoy's son, and the killer is that Scorpius isn't only dangerous and crazy he's also wearing girls’ clothes, or women's, women's as he only seems to care for Narcissa’s wardrobe. Scorpius is unapologetic about it as well. He plain doesn't care what reputation he has.

The problem is, maybe, that Albus does care.

 

~2~

_Black and blue_

Albus smudges the eyeliner around Scorpius' eyes carefully with his thumb and Scorpius seeks the touch, pushes his face into Albus' hand, lets Albus cradle his face in his palm. Albus can feel Scorpius' breath on his skin, irregular, but trying to focus, trying to stay in control. Albus smiles down at him and kisses the top of his head, his forehead, the corner of his eye. He's pliant today, just letting Albus do whatever he wants and usually it would be all about Albus fucking him hard into the mattress, bending him over and tugging at his hair, showing strength or whatever they are trying to prove to each other, but today...Albus has no idea why he doesn't behave according to himself, to the boundaries they set (unspoken, unwritten). Has no idea why Scorpius lets him either.

“It would look good on you, too,” Scorpius says softly, reaching out a finger to stroke it around Albus' eye, then down his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his fingers curling around Albus' shoulder, dragging him closer.

“Not something I do,” Albus answers helplessly.

Scorpius smiles up at him. His hair is a mess again, but longer now, curling around his jaw when he doesn't pin it back (which he does during Potions). “No, it isn't,” he says cryptically.

Something angry flares up inside Albus' stomach, but he stomps down on it. He's not going to let Scorpius set the rules today or change them or whatever, not that Albus has any idea what the rules even _are_. They just fell into it, or that's how Albus sees it. Maybe Albus is the only one who fell at all, but Scorpius was the one who was falling to his knees first. His long pale fingers, like a spider's touch to Albus' skin, parting his robes, opening his fly and Albus' head banging against the rough wall of the abandoned corridor. He couldn't look at Scorpius then. Couldn't look at him for three freaking weeks and then he just...broke down, maybe.

“Just stop,” Albus whispers harshly.

“What?”

“Talking, just stop talking,” Albus answers and leans down to kiss Scorpius, to shut him up, to wipe that smirk from his face, that knowing look, like he knows things Albus will never know or understand.

And Scorpius does. He doesn't say a single word while Albus has his fingers inside him, doesn't demand another, more, harder, faster. Albus watches him biting his lip to keep something in as Albus pushes his dick inside him. He leans over Scorpius, closes his eyes, lets their foreheads touch, breathes Scorpius in: sweat, the sweet-spice perfume he always wears, the acerbic scent of his hair (herbs, mushrooms and all the dark poisonous nightshades he likes to play with). Scorpius fingers snake around his waist, his legs locking behind Albus, pulling him in. Just because he doesn't say the words doesn't mean he doesn't give commands and instructions.

“Pushy,” Albus breaths against Scorpius lips, and Scorpius surges up to kiss him hard, bite his lip, and Albus' hips snap forward.  
Scorpius always plays dirty.

~+~

“There's still one missing,” Scorpius says lazily. His head is lying in Albus' lap. Albus is playing with his hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around his finger.

“I can't find it,” Albus answers, tugging and Scorpius looks up at him, his eyes are so freaking blue it always amazes Albus anew. He's grown up to hearing people talk about the Malfoys' cold pale features, their stormy grey eyes. Scorpius' aren't. They aren't cold grey, they are a sharp blue. They're cobalt; the smeared black eyeliner making them even bluer, and right now shining with warm amusement.

“You are in so much trouble, Potter,” he says.

“You keep saying that,” Albus replies, leaning down to kiss him.

Scorpius meets him halfway. “It's still true.”

~+~

After dinner Dad raises an eyebrow and nods to the lovebite. Albus covers it up hastily with his hand. He was wondering when one of his parents would say something about it. He's not ashamed of being with someone, his parents know he's with people, on and off, but this is...this is different. He has no way to explain this, to make Dad understand what he's doing and much less with whom and _why_.

“So...” Dad says. He's looking at Albus, his hands in his pockets and tipping on the heels of his feet. He looks sometimes like a schoolboy.

“I...”

“Yeah,” Dad answers, he's vaguely amused.

“Uhm...”

“You want to introduce us to your – fill in the blank?”

“Boyfriend, it would be boyfriend, but we're not...it's not a thing,” Albus answers.

“Not a thing?” Dad asks.

Albus rubs the lovebite, the skin tender and hurting a bit, and suppresses a moan as he remembers the other bruises Scorpius left on his body just yesterday before they had to get to the train. As if to mark and claim him, and Albus did it to Scorpius in return. They were biting, clawing and grabbing at each other like animals. It was so fucking frantic and hot.

Albus nods, “Not a thing.”

“Are you careful?” Dad asks and Albus has no idea how to answer that question, because he knows he is not. He is not careful at all, not with his skin, his bones, and even less with the tender parts that are so easily hurt, damaged beyond any hope of repair. He bites his lip until it bleeds and shakes his head.

“No,” he gets it out, gets it past his lips, and it hurts to say it.

“Oh Albus,” Dad says, and hugs him.

Albus hugs back, clings to Dad like he hasn’t since he left the first time for Hogwarts.

~+~  
Albus can't help himself he traces the bruises, digs his fingers in to keep the shape and tries not to think about Scorpius' blue eyes and smudged eyeliner on his fingertips. The taste of it on his tongue, the soft moan Scorpius let out as Albus did it.

“Fucked,” he tells his reflection.

“Truly and utterly,” his reflection answers, because it doesn't lie. Can't lie.

Sometimes Albus wishes he couldn't either.

 

~3~

_Smoke and fire_

Scorpius is smoking his second cigarette in as many minutes, but he seems calmer now than just minutes before. A bit. Albus wasn't there, he didn't see, he only knows because the Zabini twins told him.

“You could've avoided that by just not wearing lipgloss, pearls and your grandmother's freaking scarf!” Albus says, he's so angry but he doesn't know at whom. Maybe at the world at large.

“You love _Narcissa's_ scarf,” Scorpius answers. He isn't looking at Albus, he's staring out of the open window, watching the smoke. Albus swallows. God, he does love the scarf, loves what Scorpius can do to him with it, but that is beside the point.

“That is not the point, Scorpius!”

“What is the point then, Potter?” he wants to know, turning on an exhale to look at Albus. There is lipgloss mixed with blood on his lip. He didn't clean it up. Albus knows how it tastes, the lipgloss, like peaches and the blood...well, coppery with a light salty tang.

“The point is that this wouldn't have happened if you wouldn't have ventured out in _Narcissa's_ clothes.”

“That's who I am.”

“You could be someone else for when you are out there!”

“Oh, I think you mean _should_ , not could,” he says, something bitter creeping into his voice. “Would you?”

“What?” Albus asks, confused and pissed off.

“Be someone else for the masses?” Scorpius answers, inhaling deeply.

Albus bites his lip, shaking his head, but he doesn't know what he means by it.

“You would,” Scorpius says. “You _are_ because you are a coward. I bet if your father knew he would be so disappointed.”

And that stings, especially because Scorpius delivers it in this matter-of-fact tone. “Does yours know?”

“What?” Scorpius asks, something dangerous in his voice that Albus chooses to ignore.

“That you're plundering his mother's wardrobe? That his son wants to be a freaking girl?!”

Scorpius punches him then, hard, not like a girl at all. Albus touches his lip, his fingertips come back red, it bleeds.

Scorpius turns back to the window. “He loves me for who I am. I was never afraid to let my parents see who I am and tell them what I want and I don't want to be a girl, Potter. I love my dick. So spare me that petty nastiness.”

He flips his cigarette butt out of the window and lights another one.

“They know about us as well,” Scorpius adds softer. “The thing is,” he continues, exhaling smoke slowly, turning his head slightly so he can see Albus out of the corner of his eye. “The thing is that hell is others. There is nothing wrong with me.” The _'it's the world, it's you'_ hangs in the air between them like a ghost.

~+~

They're back to how it was after Scorpius sucked Albus' dick that first time. They don't talk and Albus can hear people whispering behind Scorpius' back when he passes them in the hall.  
He doesn't wear more make-up to show them that he doesn't care, he doesn't wear less either. He doesn't need to prove anything to anyone.

Albus isn't so sure about himself.

~+~

Albus has no idea how to handle the situation. He's angry and disappointed and he has not a clue how Scorpius feels about it, because Scorpius has dealt with this since he was born maybe. What with him being a Malfoy and the son of a Death Eater, with the Malfoys being Dark wizards, and on top of that he likes to wear women's clothes and doesn't feel ashamed, doesn't hide it.

“And he shouldn't have to,” Dad says. He heard about it, of course, and Floo-called. Wanting to know what the hell is going on in the school he loved so much as a child.

“So...you think that's normal?” Albus asks. He feels unbalanced and young.

“I could talk with snakes, Albus. No one thought that was normal back then, but it was for me. It is for me. It's part of that what makes me _me_ , like the green eyes and that I love your mother.”

There is a heavy silence before Albus can ask the question. “Are you disappointed with me?”

Dad sighs. “No...you weren't there.”

“I told him to not wear women's clothes anymore when he goes out after it happened. I told him it's his fault what happened. It's like telling a girl that she got raped because her skirt was too short!”

“Albus, you are disappointed with yourself,” Dad answers.

“Because I was wrong,” Albus finishes the sentence.

Dad smiles at him. “You are a good kid.”

“I am a coward,” Albus admits, curling up in front of the fire, staring at the floor.

“What happened to Scorpius Malfoy is not your fault,” Dad says gently.

Albus nods, but he knows it isn't true. He is a coward.

The reason why Scorpius doesn't stay isn't because he doesn't want to, it's because he knows that Albus doesn't want it, doesn't want anyone to know that they are...whatever they are.

“I don't want to feel like this anymore.”

“You like him a lot, hmm?” Dad asks.

Albus smiles, turning to look at his father. He should have known. Dad isn't stupid after all. “Yeah, I like him a lot. Is it weird for you?”

“Is it weird for you?” Dad wants to know.

“Not when I'm with him.”

“We love you no matter what you decide,” Dad says, and it doesn't make the decision easier at all, but Albus feels lighter nevertheless.

“There isn't really a wrong or right here, Dad.”

“No there isn't, but there is an easy and a hard way and you are young and can make mistakes. Mistakes and regrets are part of life, too.”

“What if I can't handle it? What if I say yes and then the reality of being with him will be too much, what if I fail-”

“You, him, us?” Dad asks.

Albus sighs, shaking his head in frustration. “I don't know.”

“You can't fail us, because we will always love you.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don't know. If it is something big...I'm sure you'll find out.”

Dad laughs out loud. “Yes, I am sure Mrs. Zabini will be the first to know and tell me.”

“It's a small world,” Albus answers.

“It's so much bigger than you think if you want it to be, Al,” Dad says, gently.

“Night, Dad.”

“Good night, Albus.”

~+~

Albus ambushes him on his way to the common room. He grabs Scorpius by his robe and yanks him into the alcove.

“What?”

“I told my father,” Albus says in a rush.

“What?”

“I told my father.”

Scorpius rolls his eyes. “What did you tell your father, Potter?”

“About us.”

“About us?”

“That I like you, that we fuck, not in so many words.”

“That aren't many words, actually,” Scorpius answers with a smirk. It reminds him of Draco Malfoy. The smirk is definitely a Malfoy thing.

“Point is, _Malfoy_ , that they know,” he says, stepping closer, crowding Scorpius against the wall. “And I know why you never stay after we had sex.”

“Yeah?”

“Because you are smart and know that I can't handle it.”

Scorpius sighs. “I was waiting for you to finally figure it out.” He looks down at Albus' hand on his robe and then tries to pry it away.

“Oh no. You're not leaving.”

“I am not the one leaving,” Scorpius answers.

“You are always the one who's leaving, Scorpius.”

“Because you want me to.”

Albus takes a deep breath. He can't deny it. “I'm getting there.”

“Where?”

“To being with you.”

Scorpius closes his eyes. His face looks like he's in pain. All wrong. Albus reaches out and runs a finger over his eyes, his nose, his cheek, his lips. Scorpius sighs and Albus leans forward to kiss him. “I was wrong,” he whispers inches away from Scorpius' lips. “When I told you to be someone else. I was wrong and I knew that I was wrong and I don't want you to be someone else. I want you always to be you.”

“Albus...” Scorpius whispers and Albus closes the small space between their lips.

“I want to be with you. I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me while you're wearing silk and pearls and peach lipgloss, but I'm not there yet,” he confesses.

Scorpius opens his eyes. “I know,” he answers and grabs Albus' neck with his free hand to kiss him hard and messy until they're both breathless.

“You don’t have to wait,” Albus pants.

“I know that, too,” Scorpius answers with a smile and kisses him again.

~end~


End file.
